CONCLUSION.
I have thus traced in detail the steps
by which Harry Walton ascended from the condition
of a poor farmer’s son to the influential position
of editor of a weekly newspaper. I call to mind
now, however, that he is no longer a boy, and his
future career will be of less interest to my young
readers. Yet I hope they may be interested to
hear, though not in detail, by what successive steps
he rose still higher in position and influence.
Harry was approaching his twenty-first
birthday when he was waited upon by a deputation of
citizens from a neighboring town, inviting him to
deliver a Fourth of July oration. He was at first
disposed, out of modesty, to decline; but, on consultation
with Ferguson, decided to accept and do his best.
He was ambitious to produce a good impression, and
his experience in the Debating Society gave him a
moderate degree of confidence and self-reliance.
When the time came he fully satisfied public expectation.
I do not say that his oration was a model of eloquence,
for that could not have been expected of one whose
advantages had been limited, and one for whom I have
never claimed extraordinary genius. But it certainly
was well written and well delivered, and very creditable
to the young orator. The favor with which it
was received may have had something to do in influencing
the people of Centreville to nominate and elect him,
to the New Hampshire Legislature a few months later.
He entered that body, the youngest
member in it. But his long connection with a
Debating Society, and the experience he had gained
in parliamentary proceedings, enabled him at once to
become a useful working Member. He was successively
re-elected for several years, during which he showed
such practical ability that he obtained a State reputation.
At twenty-eight he received a nomination for Congress,
and was elected by a close vote. During all this
time he remained in charge of the Centreville “Gazette,”
but of course had long relinquished the task of a
compositor into his brother’s hands. He
had no foolish ideas about this work being beneath
him; but he felt that he could employ his time more
profitably in other ways. Under his judicious
management, the “Gazette” attained a circulation
and influence that it had never before reached.
The income derived from it was double that which
it yielded in the days of his predecessor; and both
he and Ferguson were enabled to lay by a few hundred
dollars every year. But Harry had never sought
wealth. He was content with a comfortable support
and a competence. He liked influence and the
popular respect, and he was gratified by the important
trusts which he received. He was ambitious, but
it was a creditable and honorable ambition.
He sought to promote the public welfare, and advance
the public interests, both as a speaker and as a writer;
and though sometimes misrepresented, the people on
the whole did him justice.
A few weeks after he had taken his
seat in Congress, a young man was ushered into his
private room. Looking up, he saw a man of about
his own age, dressed with some attempt at style, but
on the whole wearing a look of faded gentility.
“Mr. Walton,” said the visitor, with some
hesitation.
“That is my name. Won’t you take
a seat?”
The visitor sat down, but appeared
ill at ease. He nervously fumbled at his hat,
and did not speak.
“Can I do anything for you?” asked Harry,
at length.
“I see you don’t know me,” said
the stranger.
“I can’t say I recall
your features; but then I see a great many persons.”
“I went to school at the Prescott
Academy, when you were in the office of the Centreville
‘Gazette.’”
Harry looked more closely, and exclaimed,
in astonished recognition, “Fitzgerald Fletcher!”
“Yes,” said the other,
flushing with mortification, “I am Fitzgerald
Fletcher.”
“I am glad to see you,”
said Harry, cordially, forgetting the old antagonism
that had existed between them.
He rose and offered his hand, which
Fletcher took with an air of relief, for he had felt
uncertain of his reception.
“You have prospered wonderfully,”
said Fletcher, with a shade of envy.
“Yes,” said Harry, smiling.
“I was a printer’s devil when you knew
me; but I never meant to stay in that position.
I have risen from the ranks.”
“I haven’t,” said Fletcher, bitterly.
“Have you been unfortunate?
Tell me about it, if you don’t mind,”
said Harry, sympathetically.
“My father failed three years
ago,” said Fletcher, “and I found myself
adrift with nothing to do, and no money to fall back
upon. I have drifted about since then; but now
I am out of employment. I came to you to-day
to see if you will exert your influence to get me
a government clerkship, even of the lowest class.
You may rest assured, Mr. Walton, that I need it.”
Was this the proud Fitzgerald Fletcher,
suing, for the means of supporting himself, to one
whom, as a boy, he had despised and looked down upon?
Surely, the world is full of strange changes and
mutations of fortune. Here was a chance for Harry
to triumph over his old enemy; but he never thought
of doing it. Instead, he was filled with sympathy
for one who, unlike himself, had gone down in the
social scale, and he cordially promised to see what
he could do for Fletcher, and that without delay.
On inquiry, he found that Fletcher
was qualified to discharge the duties of a clerk,
and secured his appointment to a clerkship in the
Treasury Department, on a salary of twelve hundred
dollars a year. It was an income which Fletcher
would once have regarded as wholly insufficient for
his needs; but adversity had made him humble, and he
thankfully accepted it. He holds the position
still, discharging the duties satisfactorily.
He is glad to claim the Hon. Harry Walton among his
acquaintances, and never sneers at him now as a “printer’s
devil.”
Oscar Vincent spent several years
abroad, after graduation, acting as foreign correspondent
of his father’s paper. He is now his father’s
junior partner, and is not only respected for his ability,
but a general favorite in society, on account of his
sunny disposition and cordial good nature. He
keeps up his intimacy with Harry Walton. Indeed,
there is good reason for this, since Harry, four years
since, married his sister Maud, and the two friends
are brothers-in-law.
Harry’s parents are still living,
no longer weighed down by poverty, as when we first
made their acquaintance. The legacy which came
so opportunely improved their condition, and provided
them with comforts to which they had long been strangers.
But their chief satisfaction comes from Harry’s
unlooked-for success in life. Their past life
of poverty and privation is all forgotten in their
gratitude for this great happiness.
The next and concluding volume of this series will be
HERBERT CARTER’S LEGACY.